The Gentleman is a Liar
by Dawnandspike4eva
Summary: After emerging from the vault into the terrifying wasteland before her, our Sole Survivor (Freya) discovers that her priorities have shifted. But the last thing she expected was to find herself falling for a man who lies more than he speaks the truth.
1. A Whole New World (No Not Like The Song)

Her reality used to be so very cookie-cutter real. It was a life that had been constructed with years of hard work and careful effort. It was easy and clean, but it was real and it was all hers. She had a man who adored her, and who she loved gracefully in return. They had been there for one another always, their relationship never challenging. They just fit together like two puzzle pieces. Things were almost foolishly perfect, and then baby made three and it was beyond perfect. They were blissfully happy, and blithely unaware that it was all about to end. This world that she loved so very much, was torn from her hands in what felt like an instant. She blinked and the world collapsed- she breathed and her entire life crumbled. All that was left, was a grim new reality when she peered out from beneath the fallout. Little did the Vault Dweller know, this new world was going to take her on an unparalleled journey.

Freya squeezed her eyes shut as she dug a bullet from the meaty part of her arm. _Thank God it's my right arm,_ Freya thought to herself. She was left handed, and in a world like this losing full strength in your dominant shooting hand was not the best situation to get yourself into. She tossed the bullet into a metal tin bucket that was next to her. She was attempting to keep the blood contained as best as she could. She didn't want to attract anything grisly from the scent of her wounds. So she continued trying to keep the wound tidy as she began cleaning it and patching it up with what bits of cloth she had found.

"Fucking, Raiders!" Freya hissed as she tightened the bandage around her arm. She had only been living in this world for a few weeks, but she had already found herself adjusting to the knowledge of this wasteland. She had to become alert to her new reality rather quickly, or else she wouldn't survive. People who had lived here their entire lives found themselves falling victim to its many dangers. Freya refused to be one of those people, she was going to be a survivor, because that was what she did. She survived. She had made a promise to Nate, her husband.

" _I'll find who did this. And I'll get Shaun back. I promise." Freya spoke to her husband's lifeless and bloody corpse. She had dragged herself from her cryo-pod and forced herself to fight the pain as she slammed into the ground below her._

The memories were still so fresh that she felt herself wanting to avoid them instantly. She grabbed a bottle of whiskey from her bag and took a swig. It was bad. Really bad. But it wasn't nearly as gamy and disgusting as choking down mutated mole rat meat. This entire irradiated world stunk, like Deathclaw piss and rotting flesh. Frankly the towns weren't much better. Soap was hard to come by most of the time and so was the site of water that wasn't drowning in radiation.

Freya closed her eyes for what felt like a mere second when she felt her leg being nudged. She snapped her hazel eyes opened to find that her companion had become uneasy with her choice of resting place. The dog that she had discovered at the start of her travels, was a beautiful German Shepherd that came with the name Dogmeat. She had much preferred call him Pal or Boy and occasionally she would grace him with the nickname, Killer. He was an amazingly loyal companion, who stuck by her side the moment she gave him a stick of dehydrated jerky that she had found before leaving the vault. There was a rather strange comfort in having him by her side when the darkness fell around her. He often growled before Freya even noticed that an enemy was near, and he had saved her multiple times now by tearing an attacker from her body. She was certain she would have died by now, if not for her new best friend.

"Alright, boy." Freya squinted and drew in a deep breath. "Time to get going then?" She rubbed his head affectionately and pealed herself from where she was sitting. She double checked to make sure that her gun was fully loaded and ready for duty. In this world something could pop out from behind you without a moment's notice, she needed to be prepared.

Her next destination was Diamond City, and she was sure she wasn't far at all. She had always had a knack for directions, but now she was mostly running on instinct and a minimal amount of knowledge she had picked up from people on her travels. She knew was close, but unfortunately she had run into some raider troubles on her way to Diamond City. One girl, one single girl and her dog took on a crew of about five raiders and won. But that was nothing compared to a handful of other battles she had encountered since she emerged from the vault. Fighting with a Deathclaw was probably the worst fight she had endured since arriving in this cesspool. After escaping those treacherous monsters nearly unscathed, she somehow managed to get nicked by a Raider's sniper rifle before she even noticed he was there.

Just as Freya was getting ready to head towards a safer place to rest, she saw Dogmeats ears perk up and his body duck down low to the ground. He hadn't begun to growl just yet, but he was on full alert. She held her breath and rolled her eyes. _What now?_ She thought. She knew it wasn't Feral Ghouls, since Dogmeat would have been much more on edge, he hated them just as much as she did.

Freya clutched her weapon and ducked behind the broken down wall of the building she was currently residing in. As she pressed her back against the wall- feeling a tad bit like James Bond- she noticed a shadow drawing towards her from the other side of the door. Freya quickly spun around the doorway and held her gun in front of her, ready to open fire at whatever or whoever was waiting for her. She hesitated to pull the trigger when she noticed an entirely human man standing in front of her.

"Woah, woah! Easy, Tiger!" The man shouted, holding his hands in the air to express that he meant her no harm.

"What the hell do you want!?" Freya hissed, her fingers twitching over the trigger of her weapon.

He was a good deal taller than her, but that didn't take much. His hair was dark and thick, and his eyes were covered with dark sunglasses. He wore a ragged plaid shirt and nicely fitted jeans- certainly didn't dress like some raider scum. Even though she was uneasy, she felt herself hesitate as she stared at this stranger. She didn't want to harm him, even though waiting just one second could mean her demise.

"Uh-" The man hesitated for a mere second. "World peace?"


	2. Just a Scratch

"Alright, Smart-ass!" Freya responded, nearly growling at this stranger. "Give me some information fast- unless you want me to put a bullet in your skull."

"Mm- all business I see," the man sighed. He seemed almost disappointed, not like she could tell otherwise. His eyes were covered with unbelievably dark glasses. "I come in peace, I promise." His voice was somewhat raspy, it resembled how she imagined Cali surfers would sound. It was laid back and smooth, with a comical drawl.

"And?"

"And…I was just passing through on my way to meet a friend. Saw a non-mutated individual who didn't appear to be of the Raider or Scavenger persuasion. Thought I would introduce myself." His smile shot towards her in a rather unforgiving fashion. "Hi, I'm…Jack."

His hesitation made her instantly assume he was lying about his name. Regardless of her distrust, she lowered her weapon and took a half step back. She wasn't exactly sure she could trust him, but she wasn't in the mood to shoot someone who didn't deserve it tonight. Freya had already had to do way too much killing for her own liking. She hated the fact that she had to kill to survive, it made her sick to her stomach being the reason someone drew their last breath.

"Call me, Freya." She offered, letting her guard down a bit.

The man who called himself Jack, allowed a subtle and devious smirk to cross his lips. She couldn't really tell if he was handsome, but what showed was certainly more attractive than anyone she had stumbled upon in her travels. His eyes were covered, making it hard to judge just how attractive his face actually was. He was well built from what she could see, but most people who ventured outside of the sanctuaries gained muscles from their hard labor.

"Nice looking bandage there." He gestured towards her makeshift wound care. "Seen better work by mutants and they basically just have a 'rub some dirt in it' mentality. How bad is it?"

"It's just a scratch." Freya responded quickly, stepping back once more.

"A true warrior, I see." The man smirked, holding back his laughter.

"What is it that you want?" She asked pursing her lips together. "Besides to stand around and make sarcastic comments?"

"Aw- my feelings are hurt." The man touched his hand to his chest, as if to express his aching heart. "Truly."

Freya couldn't help but let her lips curl into an annoyed smile. He was certainly amusing, she had to give him that. Although, he did have certain qualities that were unbelievably annoying, she found herself intrigued. Most people she had met on her travels were rather serious folks, just trying to stay alive. Either that or they were fighting so strongly for a cause that they didn't have the time to spare for jokes. She had met some rather strange people as well, with chem addictions and odd manners of speaking. But there was something about his humor that put her at ease and irritated her at the same time.

"I was actually just headed out," she assured him, waving her arm to express that she was on the move. As interesting as this man seemed, she needed to be on the move.

"Then who am I going to share this with?" The dark haired stranger held up a meshed bag, filled with perfectly dressed and cleaned meat. Freya's eyes grew large at the sight of the meat, so well dressed and ready for cooking.

"Where did you get that?" She bit her bottom lip staring at the fresh meat. It has been a while since she had eaten anything truly substantial. She seemed to be too preoccupied to eat or sleep most of the time.

"Killed it myself of course. Radstag meat and it's fresh." He waved the bag of meat back and forth and it made repulsive sloshing sounds. "I actually had to kill five mutants myself to get this haul."

Freya narrowed her eyes towards his direction in disbelief. "I thought you killed it yourself?"

"Oh, I did!" He nodded, attempting to assure her of his honesty. "But those angry super mutants can smell fresh blood. They came storming in, all ready to claim my stag and probably roast me up on a stick as well. Well to make a long story short, I took those suckers out. Killed three of them with my shotgun, the last two I had to wrestle down with my bare hands." He nodded and sighed as he stared at the meat bag. "Yup. They'll tell stories about my bravery for years to come."

"Mhm," Freya narrowed her eyes at him. It was obvious that he was telling a tale, she just wasn't sure how much of it was lies. So he was lying about how he got the sack of meat, and she was pretty sure he was lying about his name. What else could he be lying about?

She didn't much care to go further into the depths of this man's dishonesty- she was far too hungry to care. At least for now, he didn't appear to be a danger to her. If things got hairy, she and Dogmeat could certainly take on one man.

"So…to eat or not to eat? That is the question." The man raised his eyebrows above his dark glasses as he cocked his head to one side.

"I'll help get a fire started…" Freya scoffed and began assembling pieces of wood that had fallen from the broken down house that she stood in. Her tone wasn't as friendly as it used to be. After everything she had gone through it was challenging to make light of much. Her mind was constantly whirring with memories of the past, and fears of the future. It may have all happened 200 years ago, but to Freya it felt like nearly yesterday. In what seemed like an instant her life changed drastically, and she didn't have time to process any of it. She wasn't awarded the luxury of going into shock, so she chose to accept her reality.

"Who's the mutt?" 'Jack' asked as he looked at the stunning dog that remained close to Freya's heels.

"Dogmeat…" She responded as she watched him put together what kindling he could find.

"Dogmeat?" The man questioned. She assumed that there was shock in his expression, but she honestly could not tell. It appeared that he liked it that way, he was covered. The glasses were just another piece in his puzzle of lies, hiding the truth from everyone around him.

"He came with the name…" Freya shrugged, strands of her hair falling around her face as she did. "You want to get the meat ready and I'll get the fire started?"

"Sure thing, Boss." He responded, staring at the women in surprise. She had a rather demanding way about her, and it left him unbelievably amused.

Freya continued to get the fire set up, retrieving a lighter from her bag and flicking it steadily until her kindling was aflame. She had ordered Dogmeat to keep watch, and somehow the dog understood exactly what she meant. He had been easy to train, responding to her like he had been waiting for this opportunity his entire life. Few people had shown him the type of kindness that Freya had. Each time she found food she shared it with him, making sure he was just as well fed as she was. It was nice to have someone by her side through all of this, even if it was a dog who was most likely covered in mutated fleas.

Freya continued to set up a spit to roast the meat on. She would have preferred to use coals, rather than flames to cook the meat. But she didn't really have the luxury of wasting time. Cooking was honestly wasting too much time, but she couldn't eat raw meat just yet. She didn't have an irradiated belly, made for digesting whatever she could get her hands on. Once the man calling himself Jack had finished getting the meat prepared to cook, Freya slid the cuts over a sharpened stick. She had created a perfect spit to cook the meat over, skills she had learned from her deceased husband, being that he was retired military. Those skills that he had so forcefully taught her, were certainly coming in handy now. The stranger watched her movements in amazement as she cooked the meat well beyond done. She knew there were only so many things that overcooking could remove from the meat, but she was certainly going to try her best. As the meat cooked they both remained rather silent, although it seemed like a serious struggle for the man. He enjoyed the sound of his own voice a great deal, or so she assumed that was what kept him babbling so much.

"Unfortunately we don't have spices. That would certainly make this meal much more enjoyable." Freya sighed. Her eyes drifted as she tossed dirt onto the small fire in an attempt to smother it. She traveled back in her memories, to a time when she enjoyed cooking with her husband. Preparing meals that were both new and delicious. She enjoyed spices, they added so much to what could have been a simple piece of meat. She was sure spices were harder to come by around here, if she had found any she would have snatched them up ridiculously fast. Food was just a means of survival here, so was proper weaponry and an innate lack of trust.

"Smells pretty good to me." The man replied, as he removed strips of meat from the spit. His hands were calloused from living in this harsh world. The heat from the stag meat was not bothering him in the slightest. "Tastes like chicken."

She couldn't help but grin as the man devoured the meat rather quickly. She didn't have the heart to tell him that is tasted nothing like chicken. It seemed necessity to avoid people in this world, but she had a hard time doing that. Freya needed the presence of others to feel alive, too much loneliness would eat away at her after a while. She craved being able to help people, it was a part of who she was. This man, she presumed, was perfectly capable of being alone for long periods of time. Although she disliked loneliness, Freya was extremely adaptable- it was an even bigger part of who she was.

"So, where were you headed in such a hurry?" The lighthearted stranger asked. "I mean…before my-charming-self showed up and swept you off of your feet, of course."

"Diamond City." She responded hesitantly as she tore off a piece of meat for herself. "Any navigational tips?"

"Sure- follow the signs after you head down that way," he pointed in a southeast direction and she made sure to make a mental note of it.

"Well we should probably head out…" Freya tore another piece of meat from the spit and stood up quickly. "Thanks for the grub, and the company."

"Anytime," He nodded. "Maybe I'll see you again."

"Maybe," Freya smiled. "Maybe then you'll tell me your real name."

The stranger chuckled, his pearly smile flashing in her direction. Freya picked up her bag and tossed it over her shoulder. She quickly threw the large piece of meat she was holding towards Dogmeat. With one finale glance in his direction, she was out the door and headed towards Diamond City, unsure if she would ever see this stranger again.

It felt strange walking away from this man that she didn't know. Part of her didn't want to, even though she knew it was the smart thing to do. Freya often had a way of making poor decisions, even if she knew she shouldn't. This time she was going to keep moving forward, because she had more important things to take care of than following her instincts. As she walked down the trail in the direction that she hoped was towards Diamond City, her mind wandered. She couldn't seem to pull her thoughts away from the man, he left a mark of sorts. Something about his chuckle and the way he felt the need to turn everything into some means of humor. There was an intrigue in the way he spoke, and even in the way he lied. Freya tore her thoughts away from the stranger, and towards her larger goal. She had already been sidetracked so many times, she needed to maintain some sense of focus. She knew that finding her son was a dismal hope, she certainly didn't expect for him to be alive. But Freya felt the need to try- because even though she was fighting against ridiculous odds, she had made a promise that she intended to keep. A promise that she would die for, if need be.


End file.
